


Forbidden Fruit

by Polomonkey



Category: Bounty Hunters (TV 2017), The Fall (TV 2013)
Genre: Cages, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dirty Talk, Kidnapping, M/M, Restraints, Slut Shaming, Spitroasting, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:44:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14850404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/pseuds/Polomonkey
Summary: Detective Tom Anderson gets kidnapped by the very art smugglers he's investigating. Whatever will the Sherman twins do to him?





	Forbidden Fruit

**Author's Note:**

> For the h/c bingo small fandoms challenge: my prompts were cages, restrained and kidnapping. Inspired by a beautiful gifset au by lethal-desires: www.lethal-desires.tumblr.com/post/17099024082 - though I apologise to them if I made this much grosser than they imagined. 
> 
> Terribly OOC characterisation of Tom Anderson here but then again, who really was Tom Anderson anyway guys? Thank you for coming to my TED talk, enjoy the fic.

Tom Anderson didn’t need to be one of Belfast’s finest detectives to know he was in trouble as he came to. He could feel the restraints biting into his wrists and ankles, like he could feel cold stone against his naked back and thighs. He had been stripped, bound, and imprisoned. And it didn’t take much detective work to guess who’d kidnapped him.

Tom opened his eyes to see the thick metal bars of a large cage and beyond them, the Sherman twins.

Tom tugged experimentally against the ties holding him in place. No give. But there was room enough to sit so he did, propping himself up against the wall.

They’d left him his boxer briefs, at least. Though from the way two pairs of eyes were tracking down his body, he felt as exposed as if he were without.

“He awakes,” Webb said. Tom had been investigating them long enough to tell the two apart by now, and there was an unhurried arrogance to Webb that was impossible to mistake.

“You’ve been spying on us, Detective,” Keegan chimed in.

Tom didn’t see the point in denying it.

“ _Investigating_ ,” he corrected, his tongue a little thick in his mouth. “The top brass seemed to think you were up to something. Can’t imagine why.”

He gestured around himself and Webb chuckled indulgently.

“What’s a little art theft amongst friends?"

“How about kidnapping an officer of the law?” Tom shot back.

“How about an officer of the law masturbating on a stakeout?”

_Shit._

Webb was smirking wide.

“We have CCTV on every inch of our estate, Thomas. Even on the street outside.”

It had been an aberration, an unforgiveable slip, but the night had been so hot and all Tom could hear through the bedroom bug was the sound of moaning and flesh slapping against flesh and his hand had been down his jeans before he knew it…

“It’s understandable,” Keegan said, almost kindly. “We put on a good show.”

“You’re sick,” Tom said automatically. He wondered how near the CCTV had been to him, how much they had seen. Was he just a blurry shape on the periphery or had they been close enough to see the sweat on his forehead, the press of his teeth into his lip as he came with a choked off cry…

“Takes one to know one.”

“Let me go,” Tom gritted out.

Webb leaned in to the bars.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Tom didn’t answer. He pulled at the restraints again, his pulse quickening.

Webb turned to his brother.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Waterhouse’s Hylas,” Keegan said happily. “Spitting image.”

“It’s uncanny.”

“What are you talking about?” Tom spat. Was it his imagination or was it getting warmer in here?

Keegan pulled a tablet from his pocket and tapped something in, before holding it up in front of the bars.

All Tom could see was an image of a painting, a vaguely familiar one. It showed a dark haired young man kneeling on the bank of a pond, surrounded by beautiful half-naked women with long flowing hair. He was leaning forward, in the process of letting himself be pulled into the water.

“See the resemblance?”

“No,” Tom said, though in truth he could see his likeness in the youth’s features.

“Sweet Hylas,” sighed Keegan. “Beloved of Heracles, who wept to find his pretty companion had been lost forever to the lust of the nymphs.”

“It’s a cautionary tale,” Webb added, eyes trailing down Tom’s chest. “Seduction of the innocent.”

Slowly, almost undetectably, his hand drifted to his brother’s crotch. Neither twin had taken their eyes off Tom. There was a challenge in their gaze.

Tom took one deep breath, then another.

“Who says I’m innocent?”

The Shermans didn’t wait for an invitation. Keegan had the cage door unlocked in seconds and then they were both stepping in, looking down at him, contemplating.

“Bedroom?” Keegan said.

“There’s room enough here,” Webb said carelessly. “Besides, I think Thomas will prefer it that way. He’s more the type to be fucked on cold stone than soft sheets.”

Tom bared his teeth. Webb smiled at him, sharp and wide.

“Cold stone for the fallen detective. Better than bringing yourself off on a dark street corner, surely?”

“Fuck you.”

“Perhaps later,” Webb said easily. “Untie his feet, dear brother. But not his hands.”

Webb divested himself of his clothes as Keegan worked on the knots. He folded each item neatly, stacking it in the corner until he stood there nude, as muscled and golden as any ancient Greek hero.

Tom hated how his cock was already straining against his boxers.

Keegan finished and began taking his own clothes off, while Webb knelt down next to Tom. Tom kicked out at him, just for form’s sake.

“Now now, none of that,” Webb chided, moving to straddle Tom’s hips. He placed his hand on top of Tom’s clothed cock and pressed down, just hard enough to hurt.

Tom sucked in a breath and stilled, mind focusing in on the feeling, the potent mix of pleasure and pain.

Webb didn’t bother to manoeuvre Tom’s boxers off. He ripped them down the middle and cast them aside and it made Tom feel like a whore. He whimpered almost imperceptibly, his cock jutting upwards.

The twins regarded it.

“Perfectly proportional,” Keegan declared.

“A true catamite,” Webb agreed, reaching to cup Tom’s balls with one hand, rolling them between his fingers.

Tom blushed hot, feeling warmth rush to his chest. His cock was on the smaller side, they were not the first lovers to comment on it. They were the first to approve so readily of it, however.

Both brothers had identical cocks, thick and long between their legs, groins dusted finely with golden hair. Tom couldn’t help but imagine how he would stretch around them, how full he’d feel with either twin inside. Or both at once…

“He should be shaven,” Webb said decisively, his free hand ghosting across Tom’s stomach. “Bare all over, like Hylas.”

“We can arrange that later,” Keegan said, licking his lips.

Tom squirmed with humiliation, head dizzy with the idea of being turned into some kind of antiquity twink. But part of him longed for it desperately, longed to stay here and be groomed and bound and fucked by the twins, a kept boy with none of the responsibilities of a detective, a Ganymede who existed only for others pleasure.

Keegan knelt down beside him and let his hand roam across Tom’s chest, tweaking and pinching his nipples. Tom groaned, pre-come beading at the head of his cock.

“He won’t last much longer,” Webb said. “Which end, dear brother?”

“Mouth,” Keegan said resolutely, reaching down to fondle his own cock.

“Sold,” Webb said. “Of course, we can trade later.”

Tom wanted to protest but all that came out of his mouth was a wanton moan.

“I know, lovely, hush. We’ll give you what you want.”

They untied his hands and Tom knew he should lash out, knew he should try to run, but it was too late for all that so he let them put him on his hands and knees.

Keegan pushed his thumb into Tom’s mouth, forcing him to suck a little, then he replaced it with the tip of his cock.

“Not your first time, is it?” he said and Webb laughed loudly.

“I suspect Thomas has been on his knees more times than you’ve had caviar, dear brother.”

Without warning he pressed his slicked up finger into Tom’s entrance, and Tom hissed at the sting.

“Is that how you rose through the ranks, lovely? Sucking your way to the top? Kneeling under the table while the big boys had their meetings, waiting for them to click their fingers so you could crawl over and swallow them down?”

He pushed another finger inside.

“Did you offer up your sweet little ass too? Spread yourself on the table, all pale and lithe, and let them take turns fucking you? Did they see how many you could take at once, find out just how desperate for it you were? Put their batons up inside you as well until you begged for more, sweet little cock coming untouched just from rubbing against the table?”

Tom gasped, eyes rolling back into his head, giving himself over to his impending orgasm. But suddenly there was a tight grip on his cock, squeezing him to a standstill, making him whimper in distress.

“Not yet, lovely,” Webb whispered in his ear and then he was pushing his cock inside. Tom barely had time to moan before Keegan’s cock was filling his mouth; he choked around it and a hand in his hair held him steady.

Webb pulled out and slammed in again and Tom’s eyes began to water. He was so full, it hurt so much, it felt so good…

He sucked as best as he could though he was sloppy and uncoordinated, brain too doped on arousal to use any skill. Keegan didn’t seem to mind, whispering words of encouragement as he fucked Tom’s face, easing himself out whenever Tom came close to choking for real.

Webb’s cock pushed him forward every few seconds, so large it felt like Tom was being split open, the old familiar ache he hadn’t felt in so long.

Webb had released his grip on Tom’s cock but the pain had taken the edge off – now he was hardening again as he adjusted to the rhythm of the twins inside him. He got closer with every thrust inside his arse and mouth and before long his belly was tightening and his hole clenching.

“Please-” he gasped out and Webb relented, reaching down to give Tom’s cock two vicious tugs.

Tom came, the world going white around him. Keegan pulled out of his mouth and stripped his own cock for a few seconds, until he was shooting his spend onto Tom’s face. Tom fell forward, no longer able to hold himself up and Keegan caught him, lowering his head down to lie in Keegan’s lap.

Webb sped up, pistoning in and out of Tom’s arse like a machine, his cock hitting that sensitive place made sore by overstimulation. Just when Tom thought he might pass out, Webb stiffened and came inside him.

“Perfect,” he panted out before collapsing on top of Tom.

When he pulled out, Tom winced at the ache, keening quietly. A hand stroked through his hair, pushing the damp strands back from his forehead.

“There now,” Keegan said softly. “Sweet Hylas.”

“Sweet indeed,” Webb said idly, patting Tom’s hip. “I think we need to feed and water our little catamite before we go any further.”

“And then?”

“And then…”

Webb paused, deliberating.

“Bath. Shave. Then round two.”

Tom sat himself up with great effort and Webb’s lips curved into a smile.

“Or you could always go home, Detective?”

Tom thought for a long moment.

“Round two,” he said, and held his hands out to be bound.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! The painting referenced is 'Hylas and the Nymphs' by John William Waterhouse, which did the rounds on Tumblr when some clever soul noticed Hylas looked rather like Colin Morgan...
> 
> Lao-paperman made some unbelievably gorgeous art inspired by this fic! Check it out: thepolomonkey.tumblr.com/post/175220457117/lao-pendragon-tom-anderson-x-the-sherman-twins#notes


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